


Fill My Lungs With the Sound

by Alina_writes



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: BB-8 is adorable, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Loneliness, Missing Scene, Rey is lonely but a kind-hearted bae, Waiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 06:13:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5732362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alina_writes/pseuds/Alina_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And in this quiet company, there is nothing staring back at me<br/>I'm in need of the sound</p>
<p>Waiting was hard, especially when you were all alone, but the orange and white droid Rey rescued made it just a bit easier.<br/>Missing scene where Rey took BB-8 home and found a kindred spirit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fill My Lungs With the Sound

    The thing that kept her awake at night wasn’t the thought that some random scavenger might raid her nest (she wasn’t ready to refer to the place her home; maybe never), or the prospect of being attacked by those hideous sand creatures.

    It was the silence.

    Of course, the desert of Jakku could never be silent for too long. The passing scavengers with their transportation (organic or mechanical), the loud, large-beaked birds that pecked on broken pieces of metal, the sandstorms that raged for hours on end; their sounds filled the night, and she had grown to accustomed to them, appreciated them, even.

    But there were nights when the desert was silent, so much so that Rey felt the need to practice binary-speaking out loud, just to drown out the deafening silence, because without noises, she would have nothing to distract herself, and when her mind started wandering aimlessly it would always end up replaying that day: her piercing, desperate cries for them to come back, come back; the ship that disappeared into the sky and never returned. (Yet, she told herself. It hadn’t returned yet.)

    The orange and white droid (BB-8, it beeped out, proudly) spoke rapid-fire binary and had to tilt its head back to look at her. It reminded her of the few children she saw at the market, excited, curious and skittish at the same time, hiding behind their parents and poking out their heads.

    It asked to go with her, and she thought about her den and the way silence seeped through the cracks in the wall. There would be no sandstorms that night, and she had not seen scavengers come by for two weeks.

    “In the morning, you go,” she told it, prompting another storm of beeping from the droid. “You’re welcome.”

 

    BB-8 was curious about everything in her dwelling. It beeped and booped as it made its way around, pausing at every given chance to examine the items in its sight.

    Rey couldn’t remember the last time her den was filled was so many sounds.

    BB-8 seemed fascinated by the wilting flowers on her table. She took them out of the vase for it to have a closer look.

    “Traded a quarter of a portion for them,” she told it. “They were green and red for a while, before they died. This isn’t a planet for green things.”

    BB-8 considered this statement for a while, and then got distracted by something to its left, letting out a stream of excited binary. Rey turned and saw the thing that caught BB-8’s eye.

    “What, this thing?” She picked up the handmade Resistance pilot doll. “You’ve seen real ones in action before?”

     _My master is one of them!_ The droid beeped in response, seeming to have forgotten about the whole “classified” business.

    “Is that so?” She was intrigued. She had never scavenged anything fully functional from the Resistance. “Tell me more about him.”

    BB-8 looked torn between its desire to share and to keep up with its “classified mission”, swaying left and right.

    “Come on,” Rey knelt down before the droid, all winning smiles and sincere eyes. “I’m sure you have all sorts of amazing stories about him.”

    And just like that, BB-8 gave in.

    Rey sat cross-legged, nibbling on a piece of her portion as BB-8 recounted the many adventures it had with its master, which often ended with the latter pulling the most incredible stunts with his X-wing. It told her how his master (Po, or something like that) was the best and the bravest pilot in the Resistance, how he was good friends with his fellow pilots, and how he would make up silly little songs to sing while on recon missions, sending their friends into giggle fits. It also told her about the General, whom its master admired so much, a regal but kind lady with a golden, nervous droid by her side. Rey put down her plate when BB-8 described their base, a planet with grass so tall BB-8 could get lost in, and forests where birds sang when the sun came up.

    “You must be missing your master very much,” she said. ”And your home.”

    BB-8 gave an affirmative beep. _That’s why I have to find my master! He promised that he will come for me!_

Rey felt a part of herself, the part that kept looking to the sky after all these years, warmed to the little droid, even though the rational part of her knew that based on BB-8’s account of what happened before it got away, the chances of finding BB-8’s master were slimmer than trying to get extra portions from Unkar.

    “We’ll look for him tomorrow,” she promised. “I can take you to Niima Outpost and see if he’s there.”

    BB-8 trilled in delight at this, before it seemed to be struck with an idea.

     _Will you come with us when we go home?_ It bumped against her legs, looking at her hopefully. _Our planet is a place for green things._

Rey smiled, shaking her head. “You have things to do at your base; I have things to do here.” It wasn’t a lie, she thought to herself, watching BB-8 droop its head in disappointment. She _did_ have one thing to do on this planet.

    “Also, if we want to reach Niima early tomorrow, I need to get a good night sleep.” She barricaded the entrance of her den, before burrowing into the pile of cloth and cushions that made up her bed (some freighters had surprisingly comfortable chairs and beds that survived the crashes), turning off the little headlight serving as a lamp. “Good night, BB-8.”

    The desert of Jakku was quiet that night, but Rey could hear the mechanism inside BB-8 whirling away, even after the droid had settled down in a corner. For the first time in weeks (months? Years?), there was a shift in her ever-constant schedule.

    I’m going to help my friend find its master tomorrow morning, she thought, over and over, until the words became something almost tangible, something her mind could hold onto.

 

    That night, Rey dreamed of the island in the middle of the sea, of voices calling out to her.

    Someone was waiting for her, in her dream, on that island.

**Author's Note:**

> I just watched The Force Awakens this Thursday and I love Rey to pieces. I adore how she never gives up hope and manages to survive in a harsh environment with nothing but her wits and her courage. Also, BB-8 is too cute for its own good.
> 
> Title comes from Hunger by Of Monsters and Men.


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